


Too Gay to Be the Breakfast Club But Not Gay Enough to Be Glee

by Sylindara



Series: You All Meet in a Gay Bar [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone's Gay, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylindara/pseuds/Sylindara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School is the period for figuring out who you are. In this particular universe, what they figure out is how gay they are. Well, some of them. Some of them are lesbians instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John: Begin your High School life

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first instalment in the series; while these pairings show up in this particular fic, none of them are endgame ships for the series as a whole.
> 
> Also, I was being facetious with the tag; not everyone is gay, some of them are bi, some are trans but still straight etc. It's just that the commonly used term for this type of AU is the 'Everyone's Gay AU' and I wanted to keep that reference.

The first day of High School is traditionally a day of nervous anxiety, as teenagers navigate the looming pitfalls of peer pressure, teacher pressure, and basically just pressure from all over the place. Or at least, that what all the movies say! Some people, such as your twin sister Jane, might say that trying to figure out adolescence from Hollywood movies is pish posh; you say that pish posh is a stupid word that no one uses and Hollywood movies are the perfect place to research all you need to know about surviving High School. Well no, you won’t say that because you are not stupid and you know that any expectations about High School taken from a movie are bound to end in disappointment. But you keep the comment about pish posh in mind for future use because seriously, who says that?

Still, you are a bit apprehensive as you look up at the foreboding building of Skaia High towering over the three of you as you sit there, none of you willing to be the first to climb out of your dad’s car. Jane especially looks far too pale for her skin tone, and you wish she didn’t have good reason. But the whole point for the three of you to move to New York was so that you can all have a new beginning, away from the looks, the gossiping, and the fact that everyone thinks they know you guys so well just because you all grew up together. And you can’t have a new beginning sitting in the car waiting for something to happen! You dad must agree, because the stillness of the car is finally broken as he pops his door open, pushing the two of you to do the same.

“Before you go, I want both of you to know that I’m so, so proud of the two of you. John, you have grown up to be a remarkable young man; and Jane, you _are_ a remarkable young woman. I know the two of you will flourish here,” says Dad. And though his words are as encouraging as always, the smile he flashes the two of you is wobbly.

“Thanks, Dad,” you say hurriedly, not wanting to prolong the moment any longer now that the initial hesitation has been broken. Jane seems to feel the same, as she quickly climbs out of the other side of the car and starts speed walking up the steps of the school, not even replying to Dad’s little pep talk. You give Dad an apologetic grimace before hurrying after Jane, trying to catch up before she gets inside.

“Jane, wait up!” you call out, and manage to reach her just as she opens the main doors. The two of you enter the school together and are immediately enveloped in the chaos that is the first day of High School. It is honestly a bit intimidating, and you end up plastering yourself to Jane’s side as the two of you make your way through the hordes of people shouting at each other at the top of their lungs trying to be heard over everyone else.

Everything is so much more than you were expecting; from the people, to the noise, even the harsh lighting from above. You can tell that Jane feels the same way from the hard grip she has on your forearm, towing you after her as she forces her way through the crowds. You would never have categorised the middle school you went to as small, but it is a far cry from this. Still, you do your best to take in everything as you go past. Including the group of tall, athletic-looking girls already wearing cheerleading outfits – isn’t it a bit early for that? It’s only the first day of school for crying out loud!

Past them are a pair of blond haired guys slouching by a window, both sporting a pair of awfully familiar triangular sunglasses – you don’t even know where to start, the fact that they’re wearing those glasses indoors, or the fact that the glasses look like the exact same pair worn by this character you totally don’t hero-worship in this Japanese anime you totally didn’t watch.

Beyond them is another gaggle of students standing in a circle, every single one of them with their cellphones out and seemingly texting each other from the reactions you can see – you have no idea why or what is even the point, but you are glad to see that this school isn’t very strict about electronic devices.

Turning down a different corridor, you catch sight of an excited looking girl with those big round glasses you’ve only ever seen in movies – you didn’t think people still wore glasses like that in real life, isn't she scared of being called a Harry Potter emulator? On the other hand, you are gratified to notice that both the girl and the boy she is talking to have teeth as bad as you and Jane. Maybe even worse!

You find you have to look away when the two of you get stuck behind what seems to be the entire football team, also in their official uniforms – you wonder if it’s a school tradition or something? A really weird one. You manage to find a small opening by the lockers, and this time it’s you dragging Jane along as you squeeze through the gap. It is the closest you have ever come to the cloud of unwashed armpits versus overdose of Axe that a herd of sports jocks release with every move and you find yourself wishing for fresh air as you finally escape the build-up.

But before you have much chance to lament the state of your nose, your attention is caught by the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen in your life. Even prettier than Liv Taylor. She is also decked out in the gothiest outfit you have ever seen, and you immediately resolve to get into Goth. Somehow. At least, you’re going to find out more about it so that hopefully you can have a conversation with her someday. You watch entranced as her lipsticked mouth turn up in a smirk in reply to something the girl beside her is saying; from the similar cast in their looks you think they are probably siblings, though the other girl looks older in her short skirt and tights and a mouth rimmed in hot pink instead of black like her probably-sister. You mentally make a note of the fact that it doesn’t seem like the school cares about make-up either, you know Jane likes to add a bit of a shine to her lips and pick out her eyes with mascara, and she would be glad to know about this.

You spend so long thinking about the goth girl that you don’t even realise at first that the two of you have reached the right room, and you jolt to attention to find you are standing in front of the door to the classroom with Jane’s hand hovering just above the handle. You decide to be the active one this time again, and drag Jane inside with you before people start looking at you weird for standing outside the classroom without moving.

There is nothing particularly noteworthy about your new homeroom itself: a lot of the usual posters on the walls, some students already staking out desks for themselves, and a lot of aimless milling around as people familiarise themselves with the room and each other.

You look over at Jane to find that she is already looking at you. Her face betrays her unease, and you look steadily into her eyes hoping she can see the encouragement in yours and bolster her self-confidence. You don’t know if she got your message or not, but her brows unfurrow and she faces forward with an almost peaceful expression as she picks her way to a patch of empty desks on the far side by the windows. You mentally chalk it up as another success for one of the greatest movie clichés of all time, Staring Deeply into Each Other’s’ Eyes to Convey Important Emotional Status. Tee Em.

You pause in front of the desks Jane has chosen to evaluate its position in the room: not too far to the front so you won’t catch the teacher’s attention too easily, but not too far to the back that the two of you – with your hideous eyesight that promises some kind of corrective lens for the rest of your natural lives – can’t see the board without too much trouble, overall not bad. But best of all is the fact that she had left the desk to her left free for you, knowing how much you like sitting beside the window and feeling a natural breeze hit your skin no matter the weather conditions. Best sister or best sister ever? Even if she’s your only sister.

“So what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet so far,” you say as you lean into Jane’s personal space after situating yourself at the desk. She’s used to it, and does nothing more than poke at you with her elbow.

“I’m trying not to think, to be honest.” Her reply is soft, and she isn’t looking at you at all, her eyes focussing on something beyond the whiteboard she is facing. “It’s all so overwhelming, and I honestly don’t know how to feel about all this. I’m so, so thankful that you guys are giving me this chance to really be myself, a new beginning without all the baggage from everyone knowing us since we’re kids, but-”

“Don’t make it sound like we’re only doing it for you. You think Dad still wants to stay after what happened between him and the PTA? You think I still want to stay after what I did to those bullies? Trust me, we’re glad for the chance to start anew too!” you hiss back at her, doing your best to keep your voice down. The last thing you want is for anyone else to hear you guys, considering the irony of the fact that you guys are here because these people don't know anything.

Jane grimaces apologetically at you, “I know, I know, I’m being silly. But you would never have had to deal with it if it weren’t for me. I guess, I still feel a bit guilty about that.” Jane’s face is downcast as she speaks, before suddenly brightening, “but I’m glad to see you’re using some of those SAT vocab! That’s what they’re for after all, hoo hoo.”

You’d never tell her, but you feel a deep sense of relief hearing her particular laugh again. For the first time you really feel like it was the right thing to do, moving all the way here from Washington; you feel like the three of you will be fine. You decide that’s way more than enough sappiness for one day and change the subject.

“That’s enough of that! I’m changing the subject. Did you see the girl in heavy goth make-up standing outside the door? It doesn’t look like the school cares about make-up very much, the one besides her looks like a sophomore or junior so she'd know if it's okay, and she's got some on too! So you can probably start wearing some tomorrow if you want,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“No…I don’t think I saw them? I wasn’t really concentrating on our way here to be honest. But it’s good to know, I guess. Wait, are you _blushing_??” Jane immediately sticks her face in front of you, and you silently thank your dark skin for being such a natural camouflage for blushing.

“Of course not! Why would I be blushing anyway?”

“I don’t know…but the girl in goth make-up is coming this way. Hoo hoo.” The smirk she turns on you is particularly wicked, and you are not going to turn around. You are not going to let her Prankster Gambit climb any higher, because you know the goth girl is not behind you. It is just Jane trying to one up you, you are not- is that her voice you can hear???

You turn around so quickly you almost fall off your chair, and only your quick reflexes save you from splatting ungracefully onto the floor. But you are rewarded by the fact that it is indeed the goth girl behind you after all, although she is not actually coming to this way. Instead she has stopped by a clump of students at the far side of the room, and is talking very seriously to them about something. Something that is making them draw back from her in discomfort, one of them even looks disgusted and says something that makes her face freeze. You can’t hear her reply either, but you get the feeling it’s good from the reactions of the others around them, some of whom are looking at the disgusted student with some disgust of their own.

You watch as she makes her way among the various students that have already made their way to homeroom, curious about what exactly she could be talking about so earnestly. And the more reactions you witness, the more curious you are. There are a few more disgusted looks and a lot of discomfort, but overall the students seem to treat her words with the same degree of seriousness and some even look interested in whatever she’s talking about. Well, when they’re not cracking jokes anyway, you amend in your head as you watch as yet a third person laugh uproariously to his own joke while the goth girl looks on with a blank expression, patiently waiting for his laughter to end. It does so soon enough; there’s nothing quite like being stared at seriously to shrivel up even the best joke, you know this intimately because it is a well-favoured tactic among the three of you when you need to pull out the big guns for your Prankster Gambits.

Finally, the goth girl makes her way to the two of you, and you do your best to swallow your nerves as quietly as you can while she approaches. You can feel sweat gathering on your palms and you surreptitiously rub them against your jeans. It’s okay, just play it cool, you can do it, don't fuck up Egbert.

“Hello, let me introduce myself, my name is Rose Lalonde. I have some questions for you if you do not mind; they are to do with one of the clubs in this school. As I am sure you have been told over and over again, it is in your best interest to join clubs when you enter high school and I think it will be good to consider _our_ club and what joining us or not says about you as person. I am aware that this is a serious accusation, and I am not flinging this about thoughtlessly. I am not one to label you either one way or the other just through your actions of repudiating such a club, but still I think some self-introspection may be in order if you decide that there is something wrong with joining our club. After all, there is nothing wrong with it, is there.”

Holy shit. Whatever you were expecting, this isn’t it. The goth girl- no, Rose, is staring at the two of you expectantly, but you honestly have no idea what to say considering the fact that she hasn’t asked any questions at all, or even said what the club is about! But you get the feeling it’s probably a goth club or something, because seriously, a club that defines who you are? That is way too teen movie cliché even for you, and _someone_ seems to feel a bit too strongly about whatever hobby she has.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you, I guess! I’m Jane Crocker, and this is John Egbert. And yes, we are twins, and we do have different last names. It’s a bit complicated,” Jane says delicately, and you don’t envy her at all for answering because questions about your different last names are quite frankly the last thing you want to deal with. Ever.

To her credit, Rose doesn’t even blink at Jane’s – by now well-rehearsed – spiel, just starts talking again, “it is nice to meet you, Jane, John.” She nods her head at each of you, and it is honestly kind of cute and you decide to give her the benefit of doubt about her club because she doesn’t seem like that much of a tool. You tune in to her words in time to hear:

“…and so I would like to hear your thoughts about our school’s LGBT club. And whether you-” Rose cuts off at the loud squeak you let loose after hearing that because, oh my god! She’s in the LGBT club! She’s probably gay! And here you were, totally crushing on her!!

Luckily, Jane comes unwittingly to your rescue as she suddenly blurts out, “this school has an LGBT club? Yes! I-I want to join!”

It gives you a chance to calm down; and realise that her being in the club doesn’t really mean anything. Not that you’re thinking of going anywhere with this. It’s the first day of High School! Definitely not the time to start thinking about relationships.

“That’s great; we would love to have you. And you needn’t think it’s just for those who identify as queer either; officially it may be the LGBT club, but everyone understands that it is more like a Straight Gay Alliance in practice. I myself am more of an Ally, strictly speaking, so if you know of anyone who is sympathetic towards our cause…”

“Ah, yeah! I wanna join! I’m definitely an ally,” you cut in, realising that she probably isn’t going to stop on her own. Also you decide to ignore the feeling of relief you got after hearing she is an ally too, because seriously. First day of High School. _Not_ the time for relationships.

The smile she flashes the two of you is definitely a lot warmer than the polite one she had on at the beginning of the conversation, and she sounds happy as she tells you, “I’m glad. Come along to Room 413 in the Beta building; here, I’ll draw on your maps. Come here after school on Wednesday for our first meeting. It’s all very informal, just introductions mostly. There’re about an equal number of both LGBT members and allies, so there’s nothing to be nervous about. Either of you.”

The bell rings just then, forestalling anything else she might have been about to say. Flashing the two of you another bright smile, Rose makes her way up to the front of the room; choosing an empty desk right in front of the teacher.

“You _are_ blushing,” Jane says teasingly, under the ruckus of all the late students coming in and choosing their seats from what’s left over. You refuse to grace that with a reply, instead concentrating on forcing the heat to leave your face through sheer force of will. Undeterred with your silence, Jane continues, “I wouldn’t say her make-up was all that heavy either. Her pale complexion looks quite natural, although the roots are showing in her hair, I think it’s just the black lipstick that gives that impression. Which is quite lucky for you isn’t it? Considering how much you seem to abjure heavy make-up and anything else that reminds you even tangently of clowns.”

You have never been so thankful for the teacher to come into the room and shut Jane up. Because you are not thinking about this. NO RELATIONSHIPS.


	2. Rose: Ruminate on your first day of High School

It is a dark and stormy night. Your favourite kind. Especially when you are seated at your desk plotting. As if to punctuate your thoughts, a flash of lightning whites out the room from the open window behind you. The perfect atmosphere. Which means it is also the exact moment your older sister bursts into your room, because that is what she does.

“Rosey! Who was ur first day of shool? *How. Hic,” Roxy squeals, face pressing up right next to you because she has no spatial awareness when she’s drinking. Which is literally all the time. You would deplore your mother for not doing something about that, but that would make her a huge hypocrite considering how often _she_ drinks around the two of you. Hint: it is also all the time. One thing you know for sure, you never want to get drunk. Ever. If there’s one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact that you are nothing like the rest of your family.

“Rosey, your inoring me. *igorin. Wateva.” The problem with ignoring Roxy is that she just clings harder and whines louder. It’s just not worth it in the end.

“I am simply trying to formulate the best response to your question while simultaneously making sure it is a response that you will actually be able to comprehend with your particular level of drunkenness.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Oh, gud!” She grins at that, rocking back on her heels to perch her head on your desk on top of her folded arms. You take this chance to turn around in your chair so that you are facing her, trying to shuffle your thoughts into a coherent narrative of everything that had happened today.

“It was fairly uneventful, I suppose. A lot of the usual things on a first day, nothing unexpected.” You never know what to say when it comes to Roxy, or your mother. You cannot gauge their sincerity. You don’t even know if they have any. Your wordiness – the affectation that made you notorious in your previous school – is completely defeated in the faces of your family. Years of study on human behaviour just makes it harder to understand them, not easier. After the low point last year, you are ashamed to admit that you are contemplating giving up on this venture; maybe they are exactly how they’re presenting themselves, no dissembling whatsoever? Still, that can’t be right.

“Ugh, thas not wat I mean and u no it!! Even ush softmores herd. *heard. Wait, that’s the same. *sofomores. U’ve been goin’ round ashking ppl to join us LBGT. Gettin’ all up in there faeces. Ew no, *faces,” says Roxy, grinning sloppily at you.

You take a moment to untangle her words and sift out the meaning from her mistakes. Once you realise what she’s saying, you can’t help but allow a self-satisfied smirk show on your face. “Isn’t that what you asked of me this morning?” you ask, “I was merely spreading the word like you requested.”

“That was not what I said! U went way blonde *beyond lol, wat I aksed.” Roxy pouts up at you, brows furrowed. Sometimes when you hear a perfectly enunciated sentence from her, your suspicion that your sister is not as drunk as she appears and is, in fact, playing you all for fools rises from the depths of your mind and threaten to render you immobile with paranoia. But now is not the time for that.

You cast your mind back to earlier this morning, before homeroom, while you were hanging out outside your classroom with Roxy. She had been giving you last minute advice on surriving *survibing *surviving high school, although not one of those advice was something she had not mentioned already in the weeks leading up to the start of term. And all just as useless as you have no intention of following any of them. When you have no idea how much of it is legitimate advice and how much of it might be just her trying to trick you as some kind of freshmen hazing, it is much better to discard all of it.

Perhaps sensing your lack of attention, she had moved on to asking you about what clubs you were thinking of joining. A fairly innocuous question on the surface it may seem, but you understood full well the surfeit of meaning that lay beneath. The social circles you find yourself in, especially the ones you become part of through joining clubs, is what defines you as a person in High School. Oh, it is never like the way they portray it on TV, of course not. But that doesn’t make real life any less dangerous, or your peers any less vicious.

You had replied that you are joining the orchestra; as the only member of your family who had continued her violin lessons, this was a given. What you were not expecting was for your sister to suggest you join the LGBT club as well, or at least see if there’re people keen to among any friends you make. You had originally thought that she joined the club in a fit of rebellion to shock Mother, although the fervour with which she fell into the club’s various activities – and the string of girlfriends she brought home and her serious treatment of those relationships – convinced you that Roxy was probably being serious about this. Still, you had not thought she would want you to be a part of this; it was…a nice feeling.

The nicest part was that you could use this chance to get to know your fellow students, through how they reacted to you bringing up the club right to their faces. You had not missed all the grumbling Roxy had been voicing the past year about how everyone was trying to pretend the club didn’t exist, to protect their precious heteronormality.

“It was a good chance for me to get to know my fellow students.”

“Of coursh that’s ur askew. *excuse,” Roxy says, rolling her eyes. How is it that she has the muscle control to do that when she can’t even say a sentence without some kind of malapropism?

“Do you not want to hear how it went?” is your reply. You are well aware that, as a budding scientist, there is no way Roxy can quiet her curiosity enough to refuse.

“O’ course!!! Tell me!” She leans forward into, releasing a pungent cloud of alcoholic breath right into your face. Your chair clatters back with the force of your flinch, and you glare at Roxy as hard as you can. “Sorry, sorry! My dab. *bad.”

“Just stay there and don’t move. Now, without any more interruptions, I hope…ahem. I started my questioning immediately after I left you and entered the classroom. Overall, the reactions to my questioning are to be expected from the type of attitude you have mentioned before: a lot of uncomfortable silences, a few trying to make a joke out of it, and some who seem interested but are unwilling to commit themselves. Except for two, I will not bet on any of them coming along to the first meeting. Although I feel there is room to argue that they may yet show up later in the year when they are more sure of themselves as freshmen.”

“Ooh! So there _are_ new members for ush to expect on Whensday! *Wednesday.”

“Yes, there are at least two I am confident that we can expect for the first meeting. A pair of twins, John Egbert and Jane Crocker. It would not be prudent to ask them the reason behind their different surnames I believe.”

“This a hint for me? U kno I woodn’t!” Roxy says indignantly, and you do feel a bit bad for insinuating that. But Roxy just won’t let things go once she latches onto it, and it’s better to dissuade her from the start that this isn’t something that should be latched onto in the first place rather than fight with her over it later down the road.

“Be that as it may, I am afraid that they are the only ones I can assure with any degree of certainty that will join the LGBT club. That does not mean they are the only ones who seemed curious of course. In fact, one of my attempts during break time yielded another set of twins who professed interest in the club.”

“Two pairs of twins! Hot damn,” Roxy says, wiggling her eyebrows at you in her best approximation of salaciousness. Considering how drunk she is, or just how drunk she’s acting, it is regrettably not very.

“Yes. I know. It is like there is a dearth of twins around here,” You say wryly, raising an eyebrow. An action you have been practicing for the last couple of months religiously, and you are proud to be able to say that you have managed to more or less perfect it in time for school.

“Is this a crack ‘bout Mrs Quinn and Mr Keene? ‘Cause I’ve got him fer homeroom this year and I still say it’s totally babeiberble to think they’re married. *believable, u'll c wen u meet her at the meeting,” Roxy says. “Saying it’s too unliekly for them to be twins ‘s goin bit far, I admit it now. But they look nothing alike!”

“They have different surnames.”

“They could be divoiced, *divorced! Not everyone keeps their hassband’s name after devorce leik mom u kno.”

“Touché, I suppose. In any case, there is absolutely no way anyone is going to be able to say believably that Dave and Dirk Strider are not twins. Yes, those are their real names. I have been told under no uncertain terms that the names are ‘as real as it gets, it is in fact realer than anything else you may have ever come across. You will look back on everything you know up until this point and cry because they’ll never be as real as this.’ Or so I have been assured.”

“ _Wow_. They gotta come, I betcha it’d be hilar to talk wit them.”

“I will admit it was enjoyable to verbally spar with the two of them. Though their habit of ganging up two against one can be quite discourteous. Unfortunately, I can make no promises for these two. Perhaps I am looking too much into things, but I detected a distinct streak of reserve from Dirk about joining the club. And in fact I do not at all believe that his reluctance in talking to me was a part of my imagination. If it were not for Dave being so talkative, I can confidently say that he likely would not have talked to me at all. And therein lies the problem, as all of Dave’s urging revolved around Dirk coming to the meeting; despite my explanation about how welcome allies are, he showed no interest in it for himself. I doubt we will see Dave at the meeting if Dirk decides not to show.”

“Say…wen u say Dirk, r u talkin about a dude in this weirdass sunglasses? ‘Cause he’s in my advanced computing class. And uur completely wright ‘bout him ‘cause he didn’t talk to _neone_.”

“He is in the Advanced Computer Science class? Both him and his brother are freshmen like me.”

“Loss of smart freshies dis year, Rosey! *lots,” Roxy says as obnoxiously as possible. “Ther’s ‘nother freshy n my advanced physics. Since u’ve talked to all the freshies today, u probably kno her too. Big glasses, long messy hair, u can power a small citie from all the happy energy she gives owt. *out”

“While I must contest the supposition that I’ve managed to talk to everyone, I will admit that, yes, I do know the girl you are talking about. Although in this particular case it would be more correct to say that she came to talk to me. You will find her a scientist after your own heart, Roxy, as she decided that since her circumstances had not allowed her much chance to get to understand the LGBT movement, her best recourse is to find me – someone who have been very loudly advocating for the LGBT club whilst being an ally myself – and find out all about it.

"Her name is Jade Harley, which presumably you know if she is in your class, and she came up to me at lunch time and invited me to sit with her and her cousin for lunch. I accepted, of course, as she is probably the first person I met today who did not act as you have been complaining, instead actively seeking out the LGBT club. Or at least me.

"I had a very nice talk with the two of them, and not just about the LGBT club either. Though they were very receptive towards what I was saying about it. Of course, it helped that I do not think they had any problems with it in the first place, just a lack of knowledge and uncertainty on where to get better information. Apparently, searching on the internet is not as useful as one may expect.” You say, one side of your mouth quirking up; this is a fight you have had with Roxy since forever, as she refuses to back down from her assertion that you can find anything you want on the internet if you look hard enough, even if you can’t trust what it says. “Still, I do not really expect them for this first meeting of the club. Neither of them professed to identify as queer, and they both acted very hesitant when I informed them that allies are welcome. But I would not rule them out for showing up in later meetings down the road. Perhaps you should think about getting to know Jade, I think the two of you can have a lot of fun talking about science together. You may know her cousin too, Jake English? As another sophomore, you probably share some classes together, since you still have all your humanities classes with the other sophomores. Perhaps talk with them a bit, let them know someone who is actually a lesbian.”

“Jake English! Ohmigod! He’s famous in the shcool u kno. Jake’s liek super-hot for a freshy, well, sofmore now, and last year even some seniors were talkin ‘bout him, as well as all us freshies of cos . I don’t kno him ver well tho. ‘s kinda weird to get to kno them as a big lesbo too, it’s not that big a deal u kno. At least, I don want it to be with them.” Roxy slides her eyes away from you, and suddenly you feel bad for mentioning it. You know Roxy has a thing about not making a big deal out of her queerness, for all that you had thought she was only doing it for attention in the beginning. Still, you wish Roxy would say something, instead of leaving things all awkward like this. It is not that you resent her for it, just that unfortunately – like always – it comes down to you to bridge the gap and do something about it.

“That was thoughtless of me, I apologise for being tactless in suggesting that you getting to know them should have anything to do with what your sexuality may be. I do think you will like talking with Jade however; the way she talks about physics reminds me a lot of the way you talk about it. Also, I must ask: is Jake so very popular? He seemed quite nice, but very dorky during our conversation. Is he really so well regarded?”

“Well, he’s on the school track team u kno. Can’t undersetimate *underesitmaet *underestimate the obsession high schoolers have with spornts. lol thas perf.”

“I suppose so. I must say I do not understand myself.”

“Nah, Rosey lieks nerdy better huh?”

“Not necessarily! Someone with a sense of humour, who isn’t too hung up about physical appearance or physical ability, and knows when they need to take things seriously. I do not think that is too much to ask, is it? No, don’t answer that.”

“’kay, but I still wanna hear more ‘bout ur big avenger *adventure prostheticking *proselyting for us LGBT.”

“If you would like to hear it, then-” A clash of thunder interrupts you, raindrops splattering onto your windowsill. You quickly stand up to close the window, only to have your cat sneak in at the last minute through the gap.

“Oh, Mutie! Come here, you.” You can’t help but gather her up into your arms, sitting on the floor to pet her properly. You received Vodka Mutini as a present last year when you three first moved here, as a sort of apology and gesture of goodwill for what happened to Jaspers and everything else that had occurred. While you are still unsure whether you can accept the gesture of goodwill for what it is, you are hopelessly in love with Mutie and, admittedly, she does make up for a lot.

Roxy joins you on the floor with Mutie, reaching out to scratch her between the ears. It is always gratifying for you to see that, since cats were the only common language between you two throughout most of your life. Even now, you feel less tense with both of you concentrating on Mutie, not worrying about the meaning behind her words or actions, or how your words and actions come across to her. You can tell Roxy feels more relaxed now too, more than her drinking can ever induce in her.

“Guess I’ll try to talk wit Jade n Dirk tmr. Get ‘em to feel moar comfortble with the hole thing. Mebbe they’ll wanna join if they kno more ppl in the club.”

“Don’t worry; I have a good feeling about Dirk. Or rather, Dave. I think he will convince him sooner or later,” You say, confident in the interaction you had noted between the two of them. Dave will get Dirk to join.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxy is not allowed to get drunk in my fics every again orz I am sorry about everything.


	3. Dave: Make your brother socialise with his peers

It is fuck o’ clock in the morning of the first day of High School proclaims the alarm clock screaming by your ear. There are literally no words for how little you want to get out of bed. All the words have been stolen, all of them. Like one of those shitty thieves from your brother’s anime decided to declare themselves the scourge of all words and up and took them all for their own nefarious purposes. Probably some sort of weird mating courtship with their detective counterpart. This is basically all you know about your brother’s anime.

Next to you, your brother growls in impotent, sleepy rage and drags himself over your prone body to smack the alarm clock off its perch on the stack of cinderblocks, or what you’d like to call: the bedside table. It crashes to the ground and keeps blaring because that is your life.

“Fuck you, man,” you say, pulling the blankets over your head. It’s only September, how is it so fucking cold?

Dirk grunts from his position sprawled over you. You’re pretty sure he fell back to sleep the moment he smacked the clock, which is why he’s still on top of you and not rolling back to his side of the bed. It is pretty shit that the two of you are still sharing a bed when you’re now high schoolers; but since the three of you have decided that each of you carry exactly one third of the blame that landed you guys in these circumstances, you unfortunately don’t have any room to complain.

“Rise and shine, boys. And turn off that fucking alarm clock before I break it, ‘cause you guys are not getting another one.” The dulcet tones of your older bro (and technically your legal guardian) fill your ears just before he drags your blankets off in one sweet movement, dumping the two of you onto the floor.

“Fuck!”

“Ow.”

“Hurry up guys. Don’t wanna be late for school, do you?”

You groan as you drag yourself up, “We are so far from being late for school, we have wrapped all the way around the axis and are, in fact, late for school.”

“Whoa, bro, that was so amazingly incoherent that you’ve wrapped around the axis to, get this, incoherency.”

“Shut up,” you grouse, “it’s way too early for this.” You glance in Dirk’s direction for moral support as you bend down to finally silence that alarm, only to find that he has yet to move from the spot he’d fallen onto – in fact, he’s actually fast asleep on the floor, looking as comfy as anything. “Holy shit. When did he even go to bed last night?”

“Ass o’clock in the morning, I’m guessing. He was still up when I got back from the gig and crashed.” The look Bro sends Dirk is vaguely concerned, which in Strider terms means he’s worried enough to think about dragging him to a ‘specialist’ again. Because that’s ever worked before.

“C’mon man, get up. Time for school,” you say as you poke at Dirk with one foot. You think you hear a small snuffling noise as Dirk shuffles around a bit, it is cute as hell but not nearly enough for you to take pity on him and let him sleep a bit more. “No seriously, get up. I know you’re awake now, I can see you glaring at me through your eyelashes.”

“I’m up.” Dirk’s tone is distinctly moody and he keeps his face down the whole way out the room. You can hear his shambling movements in the hall and then the slam of the bathroom door.

“The fuck. Did he just lock the bathroom.” You quickly run after him, only to find that yes he did lock the bathroom. The fucker. “Dirk, you fucker! I need to get ready too!”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Breakfast is on the table, I’m off to work.” You look behind you just in time to catch Bro’s wave as he leaves, and you quickly shout after him, “Have a nice day at work, dear!”

Ironic duty done, you turn back to the bathroom door to find that Dirk had unlocked it while you were unaware. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth – because horses are huge as fuck and has a mouth full of nasty teeth that you don’t want anywhere near your face, and seriously who would want to look in a horse’s mouth in the first place? Unsanitary as shit – you quickly barge your way in and make a beeline for the sink.

“You can take a shower if you want, I’m done,” Dirk says as he clambers out of the shower block, already he sounds completely alert and inwardly you curse him for this ability.

“Yeah, because there’s gonna be any hot water left.”

“I left you some since you sound so pissy this morning.”

“Oh fuck you very much.”

“Exactly.” His reply is 100% smug asshole, and inside you curse him again even as the two of you leave the bathroom in unison, movements completely in sync.

Slipping into the kitchen, you find that there is indeed breakfast spread out; proper breakfast too: a stack of toast, two omelettes, even some rashers of bacon. You share a glance with Dirk in surprise, and selfishly you can’t help but wish that this kind of thing was available all the time and not just on special occasions.

You both eat as fast as you can before rushing out the door to catch the bus. Dirk swipes two bills from the lunch money jar on the way out and you tug your share out of his fist as the two of you make your way down the many, _many_ flights of stairs to the bottom. The hazard of living on the top floor, you suppose.

The bus arrives just as you get to the stop; you’ve always had awesome time management skills like that, and you’ve lost count of the number of times it’s saved your butt. From here, you finally get your first look at the hellhole you will be stuck in for the next four years. You weren’t expecting much from it – for all that it’s supposedly a pretty good high school with an actual reputation and everything – and from your first impression the whole thing pretty much met your expectations.

Homeroom doesn’t change your impression, even gives you the crazy teacher you had been half hoping for. You spend the whole time having a conversation with Dirk through your eyebrows, and the two of you silently make a pact to secretly break as many rules as possible to stick it to the teacher. Because anyone who spends half an hour going on and on about how “law is beauty, order is peace, blah blah blah" _deserves_ as much chaos as possible.

In fact, nothing about the day fazes you at all, except the goth chick who waylays the two of you at break time to preach about the LGBT club. You didn’t even know the school _had_ an LGBT club.

You’re not at all ashamed to admit that the two of you shadowed her after that, taking note of all the reactions of the other people she’d talked at. While people weren’t as accepting as you may have wanted – not that you actually thought they would be or anything – mostly they just looked vaguely disconcerted. In fact, one girl even goes up to the goth girl – some kind of flower name? Lily? No, starts with R…Rose! – of her own free will at lunchtime to bombard her with questions; the two of you kind of quit there, as neither of you were interested in the very much unabridged history lesson that broke out.

You would like to think that the two of you made totally graceful exits and are totally ninja-like in your ability to remain unseen. Unfortunately, this school’s full of freaks and the boy that had been sitting with the two girls not only catches you two spying on them, he manages to sneak up and cut you two off just as you thought you guys are in the clear.

The fact that the guy is a bucktoothed dork who speaks like someone had decided to replace all his punctuation with Mark Twain just makes it more embarrassing. His entire boisterous, fake gentleman shtick ticks you off, and not because you can tell Dirk is charmed by it. You are determined to have nothing to do with him, even if he does seem actually interested in the whole LGBT thing from what you could see while spying. He didn’t even draw back the way many others did.

But all in all, the general attitude is way better than you’d hoped for when you moved here. Even Bro seem infinitesimally relieved when the two of you told him about it at dinner, and you’re not sure how to feel about the fact that he wasn’t hundred percent confident of success when he relocated you three here. You wish you can talk about it with Dirk, but he gets all close-mouthed and sulky over the subject – as if he resents the fact that you two had to go to all this trouble for him or something – and refuses to say anything except bitch at you about how Bro isn’t infallible. As if you didn’t know that.

What it means is that – with Bro gone for his DJ gig at the nightclub and Dirk ignoring you as he tinkers with his robots – you have absolutely nothing to do and is reduced to pawing through your bag and, maybe, even contemplate going through your new textbooks.

Luckily, it doesn’t come to that. Instead you find the school map that Rose had drawn on, and you realise that this is the chance to have the other talk Dirk desperately doesn’t want. It’s not really your thing, harping on someone’s flaws and trying to get them to change, but as his twin it makes sense that Dirk would rub off on you sooner or later. And you totally didn’t mean to make that pun. Bluh. Makes you remember all the nasty rumours that were floating around by the end. This is why you need to talk to Dirk; no matter how much you’re against trying to change Dirk in theory, things can’t stay the same way they did before or else it’d be like Texas all over again.

Mind made up, you make your way to your shared room only to find it’s locked. Of course. You don’t know what you were expecting. Maybe it’s hormones or something, you muse to yourself as you bang on the door. Dirk is just locking everything around here – even the places that don’t have locks, he’d just whip some up like the genius gadgeteer he is then lock it down tight because the police is on the lookout for contraband and you better not let them find it. Can hormones even do that? Give you some kind of Compulsive Locking Disorder?

You would contemplate it further – allow your mind to be drawn down into the depths of tortured metaphor hell – but the door opens abruptly under your fist and in your surprise you overbalance badly enough that you crash right into Dirk, sending the two of you to the ground.

“Fuck!”

“Ow.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” you ask, as you gingerly lever yourself back up.

“And the same to you,” Dirk replies. Turning away from you to take up his sunglasses, Dirk quickly seats himself down on the desk chair before you can, leaving you to take either the bed or the floor. You sit down on the bed and stare at Dirk as hard as you can, trying to convey the fact that you want to have a serious conversation without actually having to say it out loud. Unfortunately, you have never been able to beat Dirk in a staring match and you soon give up.

“Why are you even locking the door in the first place?” Not exactly what you wanted to talk about, but it might be a good idea to start off slow. Gradually work your way up to it.

“Sorry. I’ll get you a key.”

“Or…you can just not lock it? What are you even doing in here that you gotta keep everyone out? I thought we’d agreed to designate the bathroom for spanking the monkey.”

“Spanking the monkey?”

“Polish the knob?”

“Slap the salami?”

“Choke the chicken?”

“Flog the log?”

“Jerk the gherkin?”

“Wax the dolphin?”

“Punch the clown?”

“Okay, now you’re going too far,” Dirk says. But while his tone is severe, you can see the hint of a smile around his mouth and you know you’ve won.

“No seriously, what are you doing holed up in here. I thought you were working on your robot.” You try to look around his shoulders to see what’s on the desk, but Dirk swiftly cuts you off.

“I still am. Although I’m mostly done with Sawtooth now. I’ve been planning something new. It’s easy to make them when they’re big, but something small’s gonna be a lot harder and fiddly.”

“Sawtooth? So it’s a pair with the one you made years ago? Squarewave, right?”

“Yup. Sawtooth’s based more on Bro though, since Squarewave’s based on you.”

“I still say it’s nothing like me.”

“Bro agrees with me,” Dirk replies smugly, though it is kind of literally impossible for him to be anything but smug and condescending these days. You scowl, because you don’t like what it says about how Dirk sees you – that you are apparently just like Squarewave. Or Squarewave’s just like you. Whatever.

“So what’s this one then? You?”

“That would be a bit too narcissistic, don’t you think?”

“Wow, there are so many replies I can make I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about you start talking about what you’re actually here for? I know you well enough to know you’re not here to shoot the breeze or whatever. So what is it?” The look he sends you can only be described as probing, and honest to god you are sick and tired of always losing out to his mind games.

“You gave any thought to what the goth chick said today?” You’ll get to it! You’re just…starting off slow.

“Is that what this is all about,” Dirk says dismissively, and actually starts to turn his back to you _the little shit_.

“Hey man, I’m trying to have a conversation here,” you bite back. Your hand reaches out and clamps down on the arm of the desk chair, stopping its movement.

“There’s nothing to say,” Dirk says, manner as infuriating as ever, “I know exactly what you’re going to ask, and the answer is no.”

“Why not? Hell, there’re people who doesn’t treat gayness like a disease here. I thought you’d be happy.”

“I just don’t want to. I _am_ happy that there is enough tolerance at this school that an LGBT club is actually possible, but I have no interest in joining it.”

“Are you even joining any clubs at all?”

“Nope. Still don’t see why I should.” Dirk’s reply is brief and succinct, but whatever face you’re making seems to make him reconsider giving a longer answer. “The very fact that this school has such high tolerance levels – as we saw today – mean that it won’t be like Texas. You don’t have to worry about that kind of thing happening here; so there’s no reason to force myself to socialise, is there?”

“So you’re just gonna stay in your room for the rest of your life and become an official basement dweller? You hypocrite! Don’t you want to meet some other gay people? Get a boyfriend or something?”

“Dave, I already told you, just because I found English hot doesn’t mean I want to get together with him. We literally just met today.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started talking about this particular guy while I was just being general. Hell, I can’t even remember what his name is.”

“It’s Jake English. It’s not exactly hard, how shitty is your memory nowadays anyway? Maybe we need to get you checked out.”

“We had one conversation and you already remember his full name. I don’t even need to say anything else.” You lean back, smugly folding your arms in front of your chest. For once you got one over Dirk, and you’re going to savour it.

“Well maybe you should consider, because that kind of reasoning ain’t gonna get you anywhere. I remember his name so I must be in love with him? I also remember Rose Lalonde, the ‘goth girl’? And another Lalonde from computer class – Roxy, and Jake’s cousin Jade Harley, _and_ Mr. Regensburg. Arnold Regensburg. Am I in love with them too?”

“Mr. Who?”

“Our homeroom teacher. You don’t even remember _his_ name?” Dirk looks condescendingly at you, curling his lip. You immediately feel the urge to sock him in the face. More than usual, that is.

“We’re getting off topic. My point is that you should take this chance and get to know some people at this school.” You know how stupid you sound the moment the words left your mouth. From the way Dirk is looking at you, he’s not convinced.

“I’m not convinced, dude. That’s all you’ve got?” Dirk drawls out, neatly raising an eyebrow. If it comes to this, then you have no other choice. You didn’t want to go there, but it looks like it’s the only way.

“Well, _dude_ , how about the fact that I’m gonna go join this club so It’d be nice if you can join me and make me feel not so out of place?” It’s a gamble; he might just let you join alone in some kind of perverse revenge over you trying to dangle this over him. But here you are anyway, dangling it over his head as furiously as you can, with some real fisherman’s shit and not those cheapass stuff you find in tourist stores. This is prime bait and tackle, only for those actually serious about fishing; you’re not gonna get fish snapping the line in one bite here, so _hurry up and take the bait already,_ _jesus_.

“You actually want to join? I must admit, I didn’t think of that aspect. I guess it’s understandable if you would find going by yourself a bit awkward, although Rose did say it is functionally more of a Gay Straight Alliance than a club just for us queers.” His face is pensive, and you can’t believe he actually took the bait.

“Look man, weren’t you saying all the time before that I should socialise with other people besides you at school? And it never went anywhere because no one in our old school was worth knowing, and because you’re a big, fat hypocrite. But this is a new school, new chances, some actual non-sucky people even. I guess I wanna try, and I think you should try with me.” You’re laying it on a bit thick, but looking at Dirk’s face you think it might actually be working.

“Is that where you’re taking this? A sort of reciprocal forced socialisation? You’d be forced to deal with people because I am, and I’d be forced to deal with people because you are?”

“Yeah, and?”

“That’s more devious than I thought you were capable of. Congratulations. I agree to one meeting, just to see what it’s like. After that, you’re on your own.”

“You know what? I’m just gonna take my victory and leave before I can’t control the need to punch you in the face anymore,” you say as you make your way to the door, “and don’t lock the door again, it’s my room too.”

As you leave, a faint sheen of achievement enveloping you despite Dirk’s best efforts, you can’t help but wonder who else would be at the meeting. Hopefully someone Dirk can hit it off with so he’d want to come to future meetings. But not that Jake guy, because fuck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those are all real actualfax euphemisms for masturbation. I actually researched this shit.


End file.
